


Dreams on a Leash

by basil_ton



Category: Cars (Movies)
Genre: College AU, Constance De La Fuente, Human AU, Humanized, Implied Relationships, M/M, Magic, Niccolo Romani, Oneshot, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Vampires, cal and jackson live together, enchanters, month and jackson are kind of a thing but not really, not like the show but like the concept ya know, the ocs are:, this was self indulgent, uhh yeah, word vomit, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 02:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14510118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basil_ton/pseuds/basil_ton
Summary: Monty turned onto his side, hanging an arm over the edge of the bed, letting his fingers trail over the carpet. He hoped that someday he would get answers, and to find out what exactly it was he should be afraid of. Maybe that day would be tomorrow. Maybe it would be never.The door to his room cracked open slightly, allowing a small black cat to slip its way through.Maybe now, perhaps, he should focus on the dreams that he could achieve.-a self indulgent au featuring a couple ocs. oneshot, word vomit.





	Dreams on a Leash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nathaniel bc he is cool](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nathaniel+bc+he+is+cool).



> I skimmed over this like once before publishing so like hafjf jfh fh also its short so I kind of rushed through this cause I really had to write this shit down

Papers were scattered around Monty’s desk,  thrown about by the desperation to find one single page in a book. It was all he needed.   
  


“I finally have something. I finally have something.”

 

Monty began to rip fistfulls of pages out of his books and journals, some sentences splitting in half with the rushing tears. He didn’t care, he needed whatever information he could get to help him. A small note fell out of one of the tattered books, fluttering down to the floor. Monty caught it before is hit the ground, and skimmed his eyes across the illegible writing drawn across the slip of paper. 

 

“I’ve got you now, enchanter.”

 

Speaking to himself was something he often did in times of stress, but now all he seemed to do was sporadically curse at himself as he shoved random pages into his satchel, some crumpling to the bottom of the bag. He tripped over himself, scrambling for the door and running down the stair quickly. It was late; most of the other students were out with their friends or knocked out in their dorms, and he took the opportunity to get out as quickly as he could. 

 

Once he was outside, he looked down the barren street before him, realizing that where he needed to get would take hours by foot, and waking up any of his friends would result in another long lecture about why this kind of thing isn’t good for him. This was something he believed in, and didn’t want to hear from them again that he could be wrong, or crazy. A pair of headlights drove up the road, lighting up the rain-slick street. Monty ran out, waving his hands violently in the air in a warning to get the car to stop. 

 

“What the hell, kid?” Was drawled out the window as it rolled down. It was a taxi cab, and he was lucky to have not been hit by his surprisingly only ride to catch the enchanter. 

 

He pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket, holding it out towards the driver.

 

“Can you take me here?”

 

The taxi driver sighed, scanning the paper. 

 

“You know this place is closed by now, kid. Regional parks close by seven. It’s already past 10.”

 

“I know, I know, just-- I’ll pay you .I’ll give you double.” 

 

The man perked up at the statement, unlocking the doors to the small car. Monty shoved himself in to the front seat. 

 

“Drive. Just drive.”

The man rolled his eyes, seemingly irritated that he had invited himself into the front. If he was suspicious of anything, he certainly didn’t mind it.

 

The two approached the park, and Monty, pulled a fifty out of his breast pocket and shoved it into the center console of the taxi.

 

“ ‘ey! That’s supposed to be sixty! You told me you would pay double!”

 

“Yeah-- yeah.  Bye old man,” he said, running for the chain link fence at the back of the wooded park. Every gate was locked and he searched for a way in. unable to find one, he didn’t hesitate to fling his bag over the top of the fence, and began to climb. Swinging himself over, the broken links at the top of the fence hooked onto his shirt, tearing small holes over his torso. He didn’t react, and he picked himself up off of his feet to grab a set of papers that fell from his bag. 

 

The satchel felt lighter-- whatever fell out, he didn’t care enough to go back to grab it. He scanned the area, trying to see his way through the dark woodland. He had no map, only memory of what he was looking for. 

 

He remembered coming to this park not long ago, the rangers of the area trying to scare tourists off by telling them about ‘witches’ who lurked in the cave areas near the mountains. This time, Monty might actually believe them.

 

He ran towards the trails lining a pond nearby, picking one trail and running to follow it across to the other side of the forest. The gravel beneath him crunched with each step, sharper rocks trying to pierce through the soles of his shoes. He hoped nobody would hear him. The adrenaline rushing through him encouraged monty to  run faster-- his desperation to finally catch the enchanter drove him to forget everything else and just  _ run. _

 

Soon enough, he was able to see the mouth of the single cave between the hills at the edge of the woodland. 

 

**_Keep out- Falling rocks._ **

 

Bullshit. 

 

He leapt over the short wooden fence that was expected to keep him away from the caves, slowing down his pace as he approached the mouth of the largest one. 

 

He pulled a book out of one of his bags, opening up the the map he had marked among it’s pages. A detailed image of the cave presented before him was drawn in the center of the page. He didn’t know why he never noticed it before, but none of that mattered now. He was finally here. 

 

Monty entered the pitch black cave, unable to see anything besides what the moon lit behind him. He searched the walls and the ground, looking for any sort of evidence that this was where he needed to be. Nothing indicated that Monty was even right, but he knew that he had to go with his instinct. 

 

He slowly led himself deeper into the cave, still not being able to see anything in front of him. He kept close to the wall of the cave, running his hands along the rough stone to help him navigate what was inside. It felt as is he had been walking for hours, though time began to pass all the same. Monty felt cold, his hands becoming numb with every crack his fingers traced in the wall. 

 

A part of him told him to turn around, to go back home and forget about any of this. Somehow, it felt like something was luring him in. It had a grip on his neck and was telling him to come closer, figure out what was at the back of this cave. Maybe it was curiosity, or impulse, but whatever he felt would not let him go. He removed his hand from the wall, feeling as if he knew his way around-- as if this place was familiar to him. 

 

Something brushed against his leg, and he jumped back in reflex.    
  
“What the-” 

 

He felt it again. He tried to make out any sort of figure in front of him, but saw nothing. Whatever it was, he could hear it padding away from him in the dirt, and he followed the sound of its small footsteps farther into the cave. 

 

Everything went silent. Monty’s eyes were adjusted better to the darkness now, able to make out where the walls of the caves were. He could tell that he was at a dead end-- there was nowhere to go but out of the cave. The luring feeling was gone, but he still wanted to stay. Maybe whatever he felt was his own imagination, but he knew that getting this far into the cave meant that he had to at least  _ try  _ to look for something. 

 

He remembered the page of the book, various runes scrawled around the image of the cave. He scanned the walls, trying to make out anything that seemed different about this part of the cave. He saw nothing but blank stone surrounding him.

 

The familiar feeling washed through him again, this time fainter, as if it were giving him the choice to stay or go. He approached the wall of the gave, placing his palm against it gently. He jumped back in shock.

 

This was no longer a cave wall-- it was smooth here, as if someone had carved out this part of the cave on their own. He continued to trace his fingers along the smooth, cold stone, finding himself in contact with various ridges and grooves carved into the rock. They were shapes. He followed one of the grooves, painting a familiar picture in his head. There were runes carved into the wall.

Sowulo. Sun.

 

Laguz. Water.

 

Mannaz. Man.

 

Ansuz. God. 

 

He heard the soft steps of the small creature again. This time, it was louder, as if accompanied by someone-- or something.

 

It all happened so quickly. The tug of the lure pulled him toward the sound, and he found himself stumbling over his own footsteps just to get to the source. Monty wasn’t controlling himself anymore, and he let whatever force that was choking him to drag him across the floor. He crashed into what felt like a wall, before putting his hands up in front of him to prevent him from falling. 

 

He wasn’t being pressed into a wall. He had been pinned to someone. Someone who had an arm around his waist and a hand at his throat. He couldn’t see the person’s face, but he could tell from the chills running down his spine that they were staring at him. 

 

Monty tried to speak, but all that he could manage was a whimper. The pressure was released from his throat, and he swallowed as much air as he could before stumbling backwards from the other person. A snap echoed throughout the cave, and the walls were illuminated with a faint glow, showing each individual rune that scattered the stone. There was just enough light to make out another figure in the room-- a taller figure with curled hair was leaning against what looked like a doorway at the back of the room. He dismissed them quickly, turning his attention back to the person who lured him here.

 

“Who...I’ve spent my whole life looking for you.  _ Who are you _ ?” He suddenly felt the mood of the room shift, and was hit with a wave of urgency. Monty realized who it was he was looking at. This was  _ the enchanter _ . The one who could lure him in and keep him here with ease-- kill him, even. Something fet unnatural, as if everything in the room was screaming at him to get out.

 

The figure against the doorway looked tense now, almost scared. He knew something that Monty didn’t, and it terrified him. A dog emerged from the door behind him, as if he were here to guard them. 

 

The man in front of him stepped out into the light, and he had the same expression that the other figure held. Shock. Horror. Disbelief.

 

“Get the  _ hell  _ out of here before I  _ fucking  _ kill you.”

 

Monty stumbled backwards into a wall, realization striking him.

 

“...Constance?”

 

He was almost angry.

 

“Y-you...I’ve spent...my entire life looking for you. The enchanter. And you’ve been by my side this  _ entire time? _ ”   
  


He began to approach Constance, as if he was ready to grab him by the neck and choke him, just like he did to Monty. Making him feel what he felt.

 

“Get. Out.”

 

“I will not get out. I thought I could trust you, but it turns out that you just don’t care, do you? You knew this was my dream-- to find magic. To find the supernatural. To fucking find  _ you! _ ” His hands were clenched at his sides. Constance’s gaze was unwavering, and he maintained a neutral expression, not taking any of the blows that Monty was throwing him. 

 

“This was the only thing that makes me happy, and you’ve kept it from me for so long. What the hell kind of person does that to someone?” Monty felt like his whole world had just crumbled around him. He couldn’t trust anyone-- this was the only thing that was holding him together, and someone he believed in more than most had just shot him down.

 

“I do. Now get the hell out, nobody is supposed to know about this,” he turned quickly, as if to dismiss Monty.

 

“I will NOT--” His sentence was cut short when the dog began to charge at him. Constance quickly jumped out of the way, trying to avoid the shot from the dog. The figure against the door jumped forwards, trying to grab the dog by the collar.

 

“CIRCE, WAIT-” was echoed across the cave. The name sent a shockwave down Monty’s spine, and he began to run harder than he ever had before. He could see the exit to the cave, illuminated by the moon. He realized that he wasn’t running this quickly on his own, but the other figure was beside him, as if he were trying to assist him in running. He hadn’t seen the man before, but he knew immediately that he was a vampire-- no other creature could run that quickly in the dark. 

 

Circe was not far behind, and shoved past the vampire to grab Monty by the leg. He stumbled forward into the dirt, arms scraping against the gravel as pain shot up his arm. Just before the dog could charge at him again, another dog emerged from the trees beside him. 

 

“N-no, not another one, please-” but the dog ignored him, and intercepted Circe quickly. A yelp came from both dogs when they slammed into each other, heading towards the shadows. Monty got up to run, but paused when he heard sudden silence. Circe was gone. 

 

Monty slowly approached the area where the two animals headed, noticing the other black dog curled up behind a large bush. It was panting heavily, laying on it’s side, seemingly waiting for Monty to approach it. 

 

He slowly approached the animal, fearful that he would be attacked again. Before he changed his mind, he noticed a large bleeding wound on the dog’s torso. 

 

“Shit,” he began to undo his coat, laying it over the gash and applying little direct pressure. The dog didn’t move, just allowed for Monty to do what he could. 

 

“We have to get you somewhere sheltered. I don’t want that bastard coming back.”

 

He wrapped his arms around the dog, close to his legs on both ends, doing his best to avoid its injury. The animal was relatively heavy, but he was more concerned about the dog’s health than his ability to run. 

 

Once at the edge of the park, he lay the dog down, kneeling beside the animal. He placed a hand on its head, doing his best to calm the dog down when he cleaned the wound. Monty reached into his satchel, which surprisingly had things still left in it, and pulled out a small flask.

 

“Bad habits,” he sighed, before opening the small cap and pouring the drink over the wound. The dog yelped, curling in on itself before relaxing into Monty’s hand. 

 

“Guess it’s just you and me, huh,” he said, leaning back on his palms. He eyed the dog, noticing various scars scattered upon its back. 

 

“Looks like you’ve been through hell and back for a dog,” he said. He cursed himself for talking to the thing, thinking back about his habit of talking to himself under stress. Monty traced a palm down the dogs back, and it arched into the touch gently.

 

“Cute,” he said to himself again, “now who do you belong to?” He wondered where the dog had come from, he didn’t expect that anyone would bring one out this late. At his statement, the dog whined, nudging into Monty’s palm. 

 

“You’re acting like you know me,” he laughed to himself. He turned around towards the woods, looking through the trees as if he were trying to spot something amongst them. Thankfully, there wasn’t anyone around anymore-- he was paranoid that something would jump out at him again. He was worried about seeing Constance again, not knowing if he would ever be able to speak to him the same way again. Or, even see him. 

Monty felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Well, that’s because you  _ do. _ ”

 

Monty  _ screamed _ , jumping forwards and grabbing onto the chain link fence surrounding the area. He was afraid to turn around, thinking back to what happened in the cave-- afraid that one of them had come back.

 

“Monty--” the footsteps were getting closer to where he was standing. “ _ Montgomery. _ ” 

 

Monty sighed in relief at the familiar voice.

 

“Jackson?” He turned around to face him. 

 

Jackson’s eyebrows were raised, eyeing Monty for any sort of reaction. It hadn’t struck Monty what had just happened, until he glanced towards the large red gash on Jackson’s torso. 

 

Everything hit him at once. Every possible time that Monty had ever been around Jackson struck him dead center. 

 

The creature that followed him into the cave. The times he’d find new animals in Cal’s apartment-- the countless amount of times he’d almost hit a poor black cat with his car.

 

It was all Jackson.

 

“S-shit, wait...you’re--” 

 

“A shapeshifter,” he started. Monty began to feel that same uneasiness. This wasn’t right. 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

 

“Because,” Jackson began to approach Monty, “we are  _ trying  _ to protect you. Constance was too. Listen, Monty, you can’t just--”

 

“I’m not listening to this shit again,” Monty felt every emotion at once. It hit him like a truck; the anger and fear he’d felt when hearing Constance speak to him came back. He didn’t know whether to be relieved, or sad. Out of everything, he was angry, experiencing distrust from everyone he’d ever spoken to. 

 

“I’ve told you, and I’ve told everyone.  _ This, _ ” he waved his hands towards his satchel, and towards the caves, “ _ is all that I have. _ This...this belief. This  _ idea, _ ” he looked down at the floor, then up to Jackson’s wound, face striking with sadness at what he’d done. 

 

“-And look where it got me. Jackson, you could have  _ died. _ I know you’re trying to protect me, it’s just-- why is everyone trying to keep my own happiness away from me? This is what I want to do with myself, Jackson, I’ve spent my whole life looking for this, and I can’t lose that,” his voice was shaking now, and his hands pulled at the hem of his shirt as he continued to ramble. “I almost got you killed. Stop trying to protect  _ me.  _ Just...you’re going to get yourself hurt again if you keep me from this. I can’t lose two dreams I’ve spent my whole life waiting for. I can’t.”

 

Jackson’s pain-stricken face morphed into one of shock, realizing what it was that Monty had just said. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t, the pain running up his sides made it hard for him to think straight.. He had so much that he wanted to say, but he couldn’t manage anything.

 

“Monty, I-- shit,” Jackson said, holding his torso and dropping to a kneel. He pulled his hands away from himself, looking down at the spilled blood across his forearms. 

 

“I-I’m sorry, I think transforming back into myself made this worse,” he sighed, curling in on himself. 

 

“Shit- shit. Okay, okay here,” Monty scrambled for the coat he had used earlier on the wound. A large portion of it was already soaked, but he didn’t have anything else to use.  He applied pressure back onto the wound, while trying to keep Jackson awake. 

 

“Okay, I’ve never done this kind of thing before, so-”

 

“Oh thats the  _ perfect  _ thing to say to someone who’s dying,” Jackson started to laugh, but groaned when the movement made pain shoot up his side.

 

“S-sorry, I’m just...trying to-- just. Focus on the sound of my voice,” his hands were shaking, trying to maintain enough pressure on the wound.

 

“Just shut up, Monty.”

 

“No, I can’t-”

 

“-No, seriously,  _ there’s someone here. _ ” He furrowed his brows, trying to see over Monty’s shoulders. 

 

He could hear footsteps surrounding them, though it was hard to tell exactly where they were coming from. It sounded like they were both surrounded, though they knew there was only one person here. Monty paused for a moment, trying to listen for who had joined them. Suddenly, he realized.

 

“It’s the vampire. We have to go,” he said, bending down to try and sling Jackson over his shoulder and failing. 

 

“Oh, great, that’s exactly who I want to see right now,” he sighed. 

 

Monty reached for the coat, but was stopped short when a firm hand gripped his wrist, pulling him backwards away from Jackson. His reflexes kicked in, and he began to struggle against the grip, clawing at the arm grabbing him. 

 

“Monty, calm down, it’s me-”

 

“Yeah, I know it’s you, and I’m telling you to get the hell away from me,” he said, finally yanking his wrist free of the vampire’s grasp. 

 

“Your boyfriend’s gonna die if you don’t let me help him  _ right now. _ ” 

 

“He’s not my-- just. Fine, help him. Then leave.”

 

The vampire shoved past Monty and knelt over Jackson, pulling out a small bottle from the inside of his sleeve. He uncapped it and quickly splashed it over the wound. Jackson cried out in pain as the skin around his wound began to sear and tighten. 

 

“I thought you said you were gonna fucking help him, not-”

 

He stopped when the skin began to pull together, sealing the deep wound with a fresh layer of skin. Jackson looked amazed, but Monty was terrified. Nonetheless, the wound was closed, which meant Jackson was going to live. 

 

“What is that?” Jackson looked at the glass bottle that was now on the dirt next to him. 

 

“It’s just..something my friend made. Don’t worry about it,” he said, standing back up again. “How do you two expect to get out of here?”

 

“If you think we’re going to  _ run, _ you’re out of your mind.”

 

“I’m not dumb. I’ll call you a taxi or something.”

 

Jackson laughed to himself, moving to stand beside Monty. 

 

“Yeah, thanks,” he said. 

 

Not long after, a cab pulled up, and Monty was relieved to see that it wasn’t the same driver as before. He didn’t want to have to explain just exactly what had happened after breaking and entering in a closed park. Jackson loaded into the back seat, leaving enough room for Monty beside him. Monty turned around to thank the vampire, but unsurprisingly, he had already left. 

 

“Are you Niccolo?” The taxi driver rolled down a window to talk to Monty. 

 

He raised his eyebrows in confusion and gestured to himself, as if to say, ‘ _ me? _ ’ before realizing who had called the cab. 

 

“Oh, uh. Yeah, I suppose I am,” he said, sliding into the back seat of the car. Monty made a note to himself to be sure to ask Constance who the hell Niccolo was if the two ever saw each other again. 

 

Once the two arrived back into town, Monty released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. There was still so much that he didn’t know, and was still conflicted about everything he had just discovered. What should matter the most to him now is that he’s alive, and so is Jackson. 

 

Monty held open the door for Jackson, who he was glad to see able to walk upright again, the wound completely healed. 

 

Jackson knocked on the door to his apartment, the door quickly swinging open to reveal a nervous, yet relieved, Cal Weathers. He was yanked into the apartment, leaving Monty in the hallway alone, watching in amusement as Cal searched everywhere on Jackson for any sort of wound, all the while rambling about what an idiot he is for leaving unannounced. 

 

“You sound like...a concerned mother,” Jackson rolled his eyes.

 

“I’m just tellin’ you that things could’ve gone a lot worse for you, Storm. You’re lucky,” Cal said, pulling away from Jackson as he turned to face Monty. 

 

“And  _ you _ ,” he said, voice raising slightly, “try listenin’ to us for once. We don’t wanna supernatural hunter on our tail.” Monty pouted, and Cal laughed.

 

“I didn’t mean to get us into a shit ton of trouble, but you know I’ve been studying the supernatural ever since we were kids and you know how much it means to me, Cal. And I was close to...I don’t know…I finally found something I believe in. I don’t want to let that go,” his eyes averted from Cal to a spot on the ground. He looked up again when Cal rest his palms on Monty’s shoulders.

 

“I know. I love that you have somethin’ you’re passionate about, but listen to us when we say that kind of thing is dangerous. You see where it got you today? Hell, I spent all night tryin’ to figure out where you were. I just don’t want anythin’ to happen to you. None of us do. We’ve spent our whole lives around this kind of thing. We know what it does to people, and we’re tired of you finding that out on your own. Get it?” He sounded both concerned and sympathetic. It still hurt as much as it did before, but he figured it was time to wrap his head around this whole thing. 

 

“Get some rest, Monty. We’ve got stuff to talk about tomorrow.”

 

-

 

His bed had never felt so uncomfortable before. He was surrounded by confusion and regret, yet a part of him still didn’t want to let go. Monty wondered about all of the times that he could have known about this. About Jackson, and Constance, and apparently even Cal. It was right in front of his eyes, but he was too desperate to find something different that he ignored anything that was actually here, and real. 

 

Monty turned onto his side, hanging an arm over the edge of the bed, letting his fingers trail over the carpet. He hoped that someday he would get answers, and to find out what exactly it was he should be afraid of. Maybe that day would be tomorrow. Maybe it would be never.

 

The door to his room cracked open slightly, allowing a small black cat to slip its way through.

 

Maybe now, perhaps, he should focus on the dreams that he could achieve.

 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> gay


End file.
